


A Scar Still Healing

by mandysimo13



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Happy Ending, Kissing, Loving Husbands, M/M, Sadness, Thilbo, Tumblr Prompt, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12089307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandysimo13/pseuds/mandysimo13
Summary: Bilbo has been a foul mood all day and Thorin tries to find the root of it.





	A Scar Still Healing

**Author's Note:**

> This was another fantastic prompt from my mutual theycantstopthesignal on tumblr. Hope you all enjoy! Remember, kudos and comments are always appreciated! <3

Bilbo had been in a sour mood all day. Not the type of mood that made one snappish and growly. The kind of mood that reminded one of a cold, gloomy day that couldn’t decide if it wanted to rain or not so it continued being grey until it made up its mind. 

Thorin had done his best to try and get his One to perk up. He arranged for a lovely tea with honey lavender cakes that Bilbo favored. But Bilbo took only a few bites and a sip of tea and then went back to his office. When Thorin heard that Ori had found the tomes Bilbo was asking after he had them sent directly to his office. But at Ori’s knocking Bilbo said quite firmly “go away” and so the books were left with Thorin for the time being. He offered to take his One on a walk in the gardens, as the day was lovely, but Bilbo responded that he would wilt the flowers with his thunderous mood and so he stayed inside. He did, however, take up Thorin’s offer of a bath to be drawn, scented with all the musky, spicy oils that became  _their_  scent in their bedclothes. It warmed Thorin some, to see that when Bilbo emerged from their steamy bathing room he seemed a little lighter. 

But the time came for dinner and Bilbo had yet to smile, say a word, or eat more than a nibble of food. For Bilbo to be so uncharacteristically melancholic worried Thorin. He could no longer hold his tongue. He must ask his One what was bothering him. 

Over plates of freshly roasted boar and mixed vegetables, Thorin spoke to Bilbo. 

“Ghivashel, what troubles you?”

“Nothing, Thorin,” Bilbo replied, head bowed and poking his fork into his plate without spearing a bite. 

“Please tell me? It’s obvious there is something bothering you.”

Bilbo raised his eyes without raising his eyes, glowering at his husband. “What makes you think there is anything wrong? I’m fine.”

Thorin sighed, pouring patience and love into his words. “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s wrong?”

“Oh for the love of Eru,” Bilbo spat into his plate before spitefully stabbing a bite of meat and thrusting it into his mouth. “There, see? I’m fine. Please desist with your relentless asking of “am I alright”.”

Dinner, was a tight, tense affair.

When they finally climbed into bed that night, Thorin pulled Bilbo close to hold him. Bilbo struggled against him, to no avail, trying to escape. 

“Unhand me, you brute of a husband! I’m in no mood.”

“I know, ghivashel. That is not what I am after.”

“Then what, pray tell, are you after, hmm? A kiss and a cuddle? Try again tomorrow, for I am not interested.”

“Bilbo,” Thorin said firmly, causing the Hobbit to still. It was not often that Thorin used his name, preferring instead to call him sweet things and endearments. Bilbo knew that Thorin was serious, then, and settled into the arms surrounding him. “I do not wish to hurt you or make you irritate you further. But you have been in a mood all day and I wish to comfort you. To do that, I must know what has happened that caused your mood.” Bilbo remained silent, thinking. Then, trying for levity, Thorin asked, “need I wake Dwalin and have him hunt down the perpetrator? Put his head on a spike for ruining my One’s cheerful demeanor? Keeping his smiles from me all day?”

Bilbo snorted, but continued to remain calm in Thorin’s arms. “No need to resort to that sort of retaliation. It was no man, hobbit or dwarf that has upset me.”

“Then what has, my love.” He kissed the back of Bilbo’s neck and implored, “tell me. Please.”

Bilbo sighed heavily, sinking as close to Thorin as he possibly could, burrowing his head into the pillow to hide his face. 

“I finished a chapter of my book last night,” Bilbo told him. 

“That’s good news. What was the chapter about. I know you were close to the battle, last you wrote.”

“I finished the battle. I am now in the aftermath. When,” Bilbo paused, swallowing, voice going wobbly. “When you and the boys…almost…”

Suddenly, all became clear. Bilbo’s writing brought back ghosts of the past. From a time when none knew if Thorin or his nephews would survive the injuries they received in the battle of five armies, as it came to be known. By grace, all three had survived and Thorin wasted no time after his recovery to court his burglar. For months afterwards, though, Bilbo suffered from nightmares of those terrible weeks when Thorin’s life hung in the balance. It had been years since then, but every time a reminder came up, Bilbo found himself in a foul mood, remembering all he could have lost. 

Thorin could hardly blame him. 

Bilbo was crying silently, then, nose sniffling and breath hitching, trying to cover his emotions. Thorin rolled him over so that he might burrow into him, instead of the pillow, and the Bilbo broke down entirely. 

“Oh, Thorin,” he gasped weakly. 

Thorin rubbed his back soothingly. “I know, amrâlimê. Let it out, I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere for a long time, yet. I’m not leaving you, ghivashel.”

He kissed Bilbo’s moist face, holding him so tightly that it nearly crushed him but Bilbo seemed to relish the pressure, the assurance of his presence. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and kissed Thorin’s lips fiercely. Thorin kissed back, letting Bilbo take out his emotions on him. Eventually he settled and replaced his head on Thorin’s shoulder. 

At length, he spoke. “I love you, Thorin. I always will. Even if you leave for Mahal’s Halls before I leave for Yvanna’s fields.”

“And I, you, my One. Burglar of my heart,” he promised. 

Thorin knew not when he fell asleep, but when he did it was with his love in his arms and peace in his heart. 


End file.
